


Unnamed (the one where Colin is ratarsed on tequila and hugs a jukebox)

by Nympha_Alba



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-30
Updated: 2011-04-30
Packaged: 2017-10-18 20:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nympha_Alba/pseuds/Nympha_Alba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt: <i>Colin is completely ratarsed on tequila with his nose smooched up to the jukebox, drooling on the glass front and singing along with I Will Survive on repeat.</i><br/>Well, it's near enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unnamed (the one where Colin is ratarsed on tequila and hugs a jukebox)

"Just _how_ many shots has Colin had?" Katie asks with a worried look across the room where Colin is hugging the jukebox like he's drowning.

"Not many," says Angel, "but obviously _enough_."

Bradley is a little foggy too, to be honest, but nowhere near the boneless state of Colin. It seems like a Bradley James Rescue Operation is needed.

"You all right there, mate?" he asks with a hand on Colin's shoulder.

Well, it _starts out_ on Colin's shoulder but wanders upwards and buries itself in the thick dark hair, longer than Merlin's, due to be cut as filming begins. Bradley likes it like this. Really, really likes it like this.

"Mmmm," Colin says as _I Will Survive_ blasts into the room for the tenth time. His eyes are crossing and falling shut.

"You _will_ survive, you know," Bradley tells him, "if you let me pull you away from the jukebox now and send you home in a taxi."

" 'm awready afleep," Colin declares, his mouth sliding down the glass.

Bradley hoists him up and practically throws him over his shoulder. _The noble Prince Arthur takes a wounded Merlin back to Camelot_ , he thinks fuzzily. No, not wounded. Too sad. Drunk's better. Mmm, drunk Merlin.

"Get us a taxi," he orders Angel, the only one who still seems to have her wits about her.

Colin sleeps with his head on Bradley's shoulder in the small, intimate space of the back seat, drooling a little on Bradley's shirt. There will be many, many mocking tales told about this, but for now, Bradley slips an arm around Colin and holds him there, strokes the warm, smooth side of his neck with his thumb and knows Colin will remember nothing in the morning.

The disappointment is almost balanced by the relief.

Outside there's the London night, garish and loud, speeding past the window. Bradley's head spins and Colin snores softly against his shoulder. _This is happiness_ , Bradley thinks. _This could almost be happiness_.


End file.
